


Pieces to the Puzzle

by neurolingual



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:38:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neurolingual/pseuds/neurolingual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cophine AU: When Delphine moves to America, she's not expecting to witness a suicide, especially of a woman whom looks exactly like her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pieces to the Puzzle

The first thing she thinks when arriving in America is that the weather is exceptionally colder here. She can feel it still in the airport, even just having looked outside the windows; Delphine knows she has dressed improperly. It was not what she had expected; she remembered to check the weather around the time she would arrive in Minnesota, but it had only said there was a possibility of a light snowfall.  _Light snowfall_ , she rolls her eyes,  _Bullshit, il s’agit d’une tempête de neige_.

Going through customs takes her longer than she would have wished, but once she’s out she can feel the excitement start to set in. She’s in a new world, full of numerous possibilities, people she has yet to meet, and especially better access to academics to better her education. A new life in America, it was something she only dreamed of doing.

The unmistakable joy she felt after receiving her acceptance letter kept her going until the end of her current semester. She counted down the months, weeks, days, hours and even minutes until she boarded her plane and flew the eight hours to Minnesota-Saint Paul International Airport. It wasn’t a dream anymore; it was real this time, and while she was here she made a promise to herself to make it count.

Delphine hummed to herself with her luggage in tow, trying to find the baggage claim to get the rest of her things that she brought along. She didn’t bring much, but her parents told her they would ship her other belongings the minute she was settled in. She was grateful for such, considering she had a whole apartment she needed to bring over.

Twenty minutes later she had finally discovered how impatient she really was. Baggage claim was more frustrating than friends had explained it to her. There were so many bags that looked like her own, and she had picked up the wrong one so many times that she was tempted to leave without them. But, eventually she had everything she needed and managed to stagger to the front gates and out into the biting cold.

While waiting for the bus, she overheard a woman on the phone, whom, despite her efforts, tried to be quiet as she mumbled strings of colorful words into her phone. She tried not to stare, but the woman became progressively louder until she was almost shouting next to her, and by that point it had started to worry her. The woman’s hands were flailing around and she was pacing, a scowl cemented onto her otherwise impeccable features, dreads swishing to the side with each step. She hung up after a while, but she still seemed visibly upset. Delphine didn’t like the angry crease in her brow; it wasn’t right.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” she stepped closer, startling the woman who seemed to have no idea she was even standing outside a bustling airport, asking in a hushed whisper, “is everything alright?”

The woman looked back at her, her expression perplexed but not unfriendly, a few seconds later gracing Delphine with a small quirk of her lips. “Yeah, it’s fine, I guess.”

“You seemed upset.” She was probably overstepping, but the stranger had obviously been distressed.

“Just stupid work things, no big deal,” she let out a halfhearted chuckle. “Dick head bosses, you know?”

“Oui,” Delphine smiled. “Back at home, my boss was a real ass hat.”

This made her laugh, and Delphine couldn’t help but join in. It was strange.

“Back home? Where are you from?”

“I’m from France, a town called  _Fontainebleau_.”

“Aah, okay. I couldn’t quite place your accent, but that makes sense now.” The woman glanced behind her shoulder for a second then returned her attention back to Delphine. “What brings you to America, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m studying abroad at the University of Minnesota.”

“No way!” She gasped. “I go there, too! What are you studying?”

“Immunology, you?”

“Evo-Devo,” she must have seen Delphine’s confusion, so she quickly shook her head and tapped herself lightly on the forehead. “Uh, Evolutionary Development. Sorry, I forget that some people don’t know that. It’s what we call it there.”

“Je comprends,” Delphine responded. She let go of her bag and extended her hand to the smaller girl. “I’m Delphine.”

She stared at it for a second, before gripping it in her own, her hold tender but firm as she shook it gently.

“Cosima.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Cosima. Enchanté.”

Cosima squeezed her hand.

“Enchanté,” she replied with a tilt of her head and a crooked grin. Their hands lingered before Cosima broke it off with an awkward cough not much later.

Delphine picked up her back once more as she saw her bus fast approaching. “Are you riding the bus as well?”

“Me? Oh, no, I’m having a friend pick me up.” She frowned slightly. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“I hope so.”

The bus pulled to a stop in front of them, and with a small wave she bid Cosima a farewell and hopped inside, her luggage occupying the seats next to her. She saw Cosima watching her leave from the window, a small blush creeping up to Delphine’s cheeks.  _Strange girl_ , she thinks.

An hour later, the bus drops her off a block from her new apartment building, and she struggles to walk with everything in her arms. Lucky for her, a man is on his way out as she goes in and holds the door for her. She thanks him and continues to the elevator.

“ _It’s loft 37C_ ,” she remembers her mother saying, fishing around for the key in her pocket. Once she has it in her hand she exits the elevator and continues down the hallway, checking around for  _37C_  next to each door. It’s at the very end, and when she finally spots it she lets out a small squeal of delight and rushes forward, biting down on her lip to keep herself from smiling too wide.

The key fumbles in the lock before she can properly open it. She hears the click as she turns the handle, pushing the door open and dragging the rest of her bags into the darkened space. She feels around on the adjacent wall for the switch and flicks on the light, taking in her surroundings.

Right as she opens the door, Delphine is face-to-face with what seems to be her living room, with floor to ceiling windows on the far end and a kitchen tucked neatly off to the side, along with a spiral staircase up against the adjacent wall. It’s seemingly empty; the only things visible are the marble island kitchen countertops with matching barstools. She saunters back to the door for her bags and hauls them up the stairs, stopping outside one of the two doors on the upper story. It’s half open, so she nudges it the rest of the way with her left foot, stepping inside what appears to be her bedroom, equipped with a bed frame and mattress. The bedroom floor color is much like the one downstairs, a dark, heady brown hardwood, but the walls are painted a dull grey. There’s a small shelf hanging on the wall adjacent to her bed, presenting a wonderful space for Delphine to place her numerous snow globes she brought over from France. Just next to the shelf is a small closet, an impeccable size for Delphine’s humble wardrobe.

Connected to her room is a medium sized bathroom, with a door leading back out to the hallway, its vibrancy matching the rooms previous to it.

“This place could use some color,” she mumbles aloud, trailing her fingers along the cold tile sink. Up to more exploring, she finds a coat closet inside a small laundry room beside her staircase, hidden behind slotted wooden doors. She placates going through her kitchen cabinets, only to discover them bare, a thin layer of dust covering the bottom. “Merde, it needs to be cleaned, too.”

Checking her watch, Delphine realizes it’s only about six forty five in the evening, but it feels like she has been awake for hours. Chalking it up to the jet lag, she decides to head upstairs to try and get a few hours of sleep in before unpacking the rest of her things.

Instead of rummaging through her bag for her pajamas, Delphine settles for stripping down to her underwear, using a pea coat as her blanket for the night. She tucks her knees to her chest and rolls on her side to stare out the window, counting the snowflakes while her eyelids grow heavy, a small pang of joy at being in her new home lulling her to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Her neck is stiff when she awakes in the morning, but she doesn’t let it bother her as she springs up from bed, seemingly peppier than she was the night before. She grabs her phone from off the floor, figuring now to be the best time to ring her mother, considering she promised to call her the minute she landed and seemingly forgot. Delphine stalks down the stairs, searching through her purse for her international calling card she purchased at a gas station the day before. After the initial set up of entering her access code and pin, she seats herself on the marble countertop and dials her mother’s phone number, listening to the dial tone for a few minutes before her mother frantically picks up not much later.

“Delphine!” Zoé, her mother, all but shouted into the phone. “I told you to call me the minute you landed. I thought your plane had crashed or something. J’étais inquiet malade!”

“ _Maman_ ,” Delphine chuckled, “I arrived later than planned. Je ne voulais pas te réveiller.”

“Delphine, I would have stayed up for you,” Zoé sighs, but Delphine can hear a slight smile in her tone. “So? Did you make it to the apartment safely?”

“Oui, I managed to get here in one piece.”

 “Merveilleux! How is it?”

“It is a little dull, no doubt, but it is still beautiful.” She stands and treads over to the window, leaning against it and peering outside. “The view is just as stunning. It’s snowing quite heavily here, though.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t supposed to be bad? Oh, Delphine! You did not bring your heavy jacket with you! Vous allez attraper un rhume!” Zoé begins fussing at her in fast-pace French and Delphine can hear her shuffling around for something on the other end. They talk for a little while longer (more like Delphine listens as her mom chastises her from another continent about not packing things she should have), but they both hear Delphine’s father shout something incomprehensible to her mother. They say their goodbyes, Zoé promising to ship the rest of Delphine’s once the post office opens up tomorrow.

Delphine could only entertain herself for so long, and with her mother busy and having no one else to talk to, she wasn’t surprised to find herself bored of looking at the white stone walls of her apartment after five minutes. She shrugged and slipped off the countertop, making her way up the stairs to take a quick shower and change into something comfortable. She emerged several minutes later and headed directly to her purse she had placed vicariously on her mattress. Shuffling through it, Delphine spots one of the directories she managed to find in the airport for a place called _Stillwater_ , only twenty minutes away. She checks the window, seeing the weather was exceptionally better than what it had been earlier, and tugs on a leather jacket before heading towards the door, locking it behind her and skipping down the hallway. Taking the stairs instead today, she almost topples over a woman carrying coffee walking next to her.

“Oh, mon dieu!” Delphine exclaims, stopping dead in her tracks, hands bracing against the stranger’s shoulders. “I am so, so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” the woman shrugs her off with a laugh, but Delphine shakes her head.

“No, it is not. I should have watched where I was going. I am terribly sorry.” She looks down and notices the many shopping bags she seems to be struggling with, muscles straining under her dark skin. “Do you need help with those?”

“Oh, no, it’s alright,” her tight ponytail swishing to the side as she looks down. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Please, let me help,” Delphine begs. “It is the least I could do for almost plowing you over, madame.”

“Okay, sure, you convinced me,” she smiles politely, hazel eyes sparkling as she shifts her coffee to the other hand, offering Delphine a number of bags to take but keeping one. She motions for Delphine to follow her back up the stairs and Delphine complies, moving to walk next to her.

“Are you new?” the girl asks, breaking their silence. “I mean, I haven’t seen you around before, and I’ve lived here for few years. Plus, you sound foreign.”

“Oui, I just moved here from France. My name’s Delphine. I’d offer you my hand, but,” she raises her arms to gesture at the bags, and the girl nods in understanding.

“I’m Imani. I live… right here.  _29C_. Where are you?”

“Just down the hall a bit,  _37C_.”

“Wait, can you hold this for a sec? I gotta get the door unlocked.” Imani hands Delphine her coffee and reaches inside her purse, whipping out her keys and unlocking the door. She takes the coffee back and holds the door open. “Would you mind just putting them on the counter?”

“Non, I do not mind at all,” Delphine smiles and steps inside, noticing that Imani’s loft looks similar to her own, except it was filled with wacky, mismatched furniture, ranging from neon beanie bags to an antique coffee table, complete with abstract paintings littering the walls.

She must have been just staring at her décor for longer than necessary, for she hears a guffaw ensue from behind her that breaks her trance. “Yeah, I know, my furniture is a little odd.”

“I think it’s nice. At least you have some, though. My place is barren with the exception of my bed, though I don’t even have sheets for it yet, or even a blanket. I had to use my jacket as a one last night.”

“Interesting,” Imani grins appreciatively. Delphine meets her at the counter and sets the bags down.

“Where were you headed before? I mean, after you practically ran me over on the stairs,” Imani adds, smirking at the slight pink of Delphine’s cheeks.

“Well, um, I was just going out to get coffee in a place called  _Stillwater_.”

“Really? Oh man, I love that cute little town. It’s so homey. Hey, do you mind if I come with you? I just grabbed shitty coffee down at the gas station, and I know this shop there that has the best pike roast you’ll ever have. I mean, as long as I’m not imposing?”

“Absolutely! I’d love for you to tag along,” Delphine nods. “You could show me around. I do not know where anything is here.”

“Sweet! Okay, when we’re there, I have to take you to my favorite ice-cream parlor. They have this crazy black licorice ice cream that is  _to die for_. Hey, no, don’t make that face! I don’t care for licorice either, but this stuff is worth it, trust me.”

“But it is eight in the morning. Isn’t it a bit early for ice cream?” Delphine asks, but is more than amused at the childish look of excitement on Imani’s face.

“Dude, you’re in America,” she simply states, grabbing Delphine’s arm and leading out the door. “What good is freedom if you can’t use it to get morning ice cream?”

 

* * *

 

Imani was right; Delphine’s ice cream is surprisingly delicious, along with her large black coffee. It’s an unusual combination, but she’s enjoying it too much to mind the weird looks she’s receiving as they walk down towards the water, Imani close by her side. She learned that Imani was also a student at UMN, going for her doctorate in electrical engineering. She went off on a tangent about it, but Delphine wasn’t able to keep interest. (She was ignorant on the subject, but didn’t have the heart to tell Imani; she seemed so passionate Delphine didn’t want to ruin her moment).

They were sitting down on a bench and Imani leaned back, neck exposed to the bright sunlight, which was quickly melting the snow surrounding them. Delphine does the same, eyes closing and giving her a moment to relax.

“It’s lovely out,” Delphine murmurs sometime later. With her eyes closed, she doesn’t see Imani nod her agreement.

“Yeah, it’s way better than that shit we had yesterday. You had to fly in that?”

“Oui, but it didn’t get bad until we landed.”

“Still, that has to stuck, carrying all that crap with you in like a foot of snow. I would have made someone else do it.” Delphine laughed.

“I wish. It was a bit of a hassle.”

“I bet.” Imani sips on her latte. “It’s just so crazy that you moved here. Just, like, up and moved. I don’t think I could have done that, honestly. I have too much here to do that.”

“Like what, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My dad and step-mom live just a little ways away from me, maybe a little more than a half-hour. Then I have my little brother. He’s only eleven. Sometimes he stays with me when my parents are away.”

“And what about your mother?” Delphine inquires. “Does she live around here?”

“She used to, but she died five years ago,” She answers flatly.

“Oh… I’m so sorry.” They make eye contact and Imani smiles sadly at her.

“Everything’s okay now. I mean, I still miss her at times, but what can you do, y’know?”

Delphine doesn’t answer, just reaches over to comfortingly squeeze her knee.

“But enough sad talk. I wanna hear about how excited you are about coming here. What was it like? Your first impression of America?”

“I’m not really sure,” her nose scrunches. “I mean, it is what I expected, but at the same time it is not. People were rude to me already, and one lady completely ran into me at customs, and then yelled at me for not paying attention. Elle était un peu une salope.”

Imani laughs loudly. “Bienvenue en Amérique, mon ami.”

Delphine perks up. “You speak French?”

“Yeah, a bit. I took it all throughout high school and then a few courses when I first started going to university, but now I just kind of do it for myself. Comment est mon accent?”

Delphine smirks. “It could use a bit of work.”

“Grossier!” Imani shoves her playfully.

“No, it is nice. At least someone could try understanding me if I go off on a rant in French. I tend to do that.”

“What are you doing tonight?” Imani abruptly changes the subject turning to face Delphine on the bench.

“Probably going furniture shopping. My place is a little bare. Why?”

“I was going to suggest heading to this bar just down the street from our complex,” she’s pauses, then quickly frowns, “but now I just remembered I have to work tonight anyway. Damn.”

“Well, what is the name of the place? I would like to check it out anyway, and we can go for drinks when you get off work.”

“I don’t get off work till ten thirty, but yeah, I’m sure I could use a drink after my shift. It’s called  _Artist’s Quarter_ , it’s this neat little jazz bar. I don’t know if you’re into jazz or not, but it’s really cool.”

Delphine thinks about it for a few seconds before answering. “I haven’t had much exposure to jazz.”

“You’re going to love it, here give me your arm,” she reaches out and grabs Delphine, pushing her sleeve up and pulling a pen out from her purse. “Here’s my number. Text me now so I have it, and then I’ll message you the details.”

Delphine does as she’s told, and soon Imani’s phone is buzzing in her hand.

“There, I have you saved,” she smiles and stands up, reaching out for Delphine’s hand and pulls the blonde to her feet. “Now, c’mon. I need to show you this little pond that has just the  _cutest_  ducklings you’ve ever seen!”

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Delphine decides to walk to Artist’s Quarter instead of taking the bus, figuring the fresh air would do her some good.

_“It’s at the big_  Hamm Building, Imani had texted to her. “ _It’s huge! You’ll know it when you see it. It has_ Hamm _written all over it_.”

_“I wish you were here, Imani. I do not know anyone!_ ** _”_** Delphine responded.

“ _Missing me already? ;) Go out and mingle! Don’t worry, Delphine, I’ll meet you there in a few hours! I gotta go, my manager’s giving me a nasty side eye. I’ll text you when my shift ends!”_

Instead of responding and getting her in more trouble, Delphine decides to pocket her phone and scopes out the area for the  _Hamm Building_. She spots it a few blocks down, and her pace increases, a glass of white wine sounding delectable with each step she takes in her heels.  _Merde, why did I wear heels? There is still snow on the ground._

When she steps inside, she’s instantly falling in love with the place. It gives off a certain relaxing vibe, most of the patrons with their attention on the musicians on center stage, the sound of soothing jazz filling the space around her and bouncing off the corners, the entire room enveloped in the sweet melody. She makes her way to the crowded bar, leaning back the wall next to it with her attention mainly focused on the saxophonist, who’s spinning around the lead singer. They smile at each other and it warms Delphine’s heart seeing two people enjoy themselves like that.

The bartender finally makes his way over to her, grabbing her attention with the wave of her hand.

“What can I get you this time? The usual?” He asks his voice deep and gruff.

_This time?_  “Um, no, but may I have just a glass of white wine, please?” She tries to ask politely, but her voice cracks through her confusion.  _The usual?_   _And why is he looking at me like that?_

“You sound weird,” he calls over his shoulder at her, filling up her glass and returning it to her. “You sick or something?”

“No…” she answers hesitantly.

He studies her for a few moments, which unnerves Delphine, but after a few seconds he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay, well hey, whatever you were fighting about with Isaac earlier, it’s probably nothing. But, I’m glad you seem to be back to your old self again. You look better. That break to the roof did you some good.” He leaves without another word and leave Delphine standing there, completely befuddled.

_Isaac?_  She takes a sip of her wine, a deep crease still between her brows.  _I do not understand. I wasn’t fighting with anyone. Maybe he had mistaken me for someone else?_

She takes a seat at a vacant barstool, trying as much as she can to focus on the next act that walked up to the stage, but there was something nagging her in the back of her mind. Her mind kept drifting back to that encounter she had just minutes before. It wasn’t until Delphine had spilled a bit of wine on herself that she realized she had zoned out, only thinking back to that one word.  _Roof_.

Curiosity got the better of her and she set her half empty wine glass down on the counter, along with cash that she figured should cover it along with a tip and set out to find the lobby. She managed to maneuver through the crowd until she found it, looking around for an elevator or stairs of some sort. She stopped a man who was walking by her how to get to the roof from here, and once she received the desired information, she slipped inside and elevator and headed for the top floor.  _Roof, roof. What the hell is on that damn roof?_

Once she got to the top floor she set out looking for an exit of some sort, finding one labeled  _Roof Access: Authorized Personnel Only_ , the door slightly open with a rock wedged between it and the frame. Delphine looked over her shoulder both ways before nudging the steel door opening. She struggled with it a tad; it was heavier than she expected.

When she finally pushed open far enough to slip inside, she allowed it to slam shut, the small rock breaking in two as the weight crushed it. She walked up the dimly lit staircase to another door, which she managed to open with ease.

The frigid November air bites at her exposed skin and she pulls her jacket closer to her body. She looks all around the roof, but there’s… nothing. She can’t see anything, aside from a few scare air vents poking up from the surface. Walking forward, she cranes her neck to see if there’s really something there or not.  _There has to be,_ she thinks. _I can feel something here_. _Roof, roof_.  _Why does it feel somber all of a sudden?_

Momentarily, she thinks it’s a trick of the light or just a figment of her imagination, but as she steps around the rooftop’s entrance, she believes to sees a person there, pacing back and forth dangerously close to the raised edge. Her gut twisting uncomfortably at the figures demeanor: its hands are wrung throughout its hair, its chest heaving. Delphine thinks she can hear sobs, stopping her dead in her tracks.

She wants to move closer, watching the figure, whom appears to be a woman, taking off her jacket and placing it next to her purse on the ground. She wants to move closer, but her feet feel like they’re tied down by cement blocks. The woman stops pacing, leaning forward to grip the metal railing just level with her chest, and hangs her head, more cries escaping her. A light passes above from a spotlight from the nightclub behind them, barely highlighting the back of her head bound in long blonde waves that seem to glimmer in the passing flash. It’s only momentarily, but Delphine swears she sees something familiar, and it sets her in motion.

“Madame,” Delphine calls out, taking a few hesitant steps closer, making sure she doesn’t spook the woman, the clenching of her heart telling her this could end badly if she isn’t careful. “Madame, is everything alright?”

The woman glances back over her shoulder, but Delphine can’t make out her facial features in the dark.  She doesn’t know what’s compelling her, but she moves a bit closer, heels clicking against the concrete top.

“Please, step away from the edge,” she pleads calmly. “You are too close.”

To Delphine’s horror, the woman hoists herself up onto the edge, moving to sit on the railing. Delphine’s heart races in her chest.

“No, please, don’t!” Delphine lunges forward, stopping just next to the woman’s discarded belongings. She’s too far away to reach her, and she’s afraid if she does get ahold of her, she may accidentally push her. Instead, she just opens her hand and holds it out in front of her. “Take my hand! Step away from the edge. It’s going to be okay.”

Standing on the side opposite Delphine, still gripping tight to the rusted metal bar beneath her fingertips, the woman maneuvers so the front of her overlooking the rooftop once more. The spotlight shines again, this time in on the woman’s face, and the air is ripped from Delphine’s lungs.

It’s… her.

It’s herself.

It’s Delphine.

_C’est quoi ce bordel? That’s… that’s impossible!_

Time seems to have stopped, because even though the spot light has gone, Delphine still sees that face, brilliantly illuminated: cheeks puffy, eyes an angry red, lips trembling. She examines herself in a horrible state of disarray, standing on the edge of a building, violently sobbing on the verge of committing suicide.

Delphine’s mouth is hanging open, the only sound between them Delphine’s ragged intake of air.

For whatever reason, she takes a step forward.

Mistake. Big mistake. As soon as she does, the woman lifts a foot and pushes her body away from the railing, several different emotions Delphine can’t even place running through her mind as she watches her drop from sight.

Delphine will never forget the horrendous sound of a body hitting the pavement.


End file.
